* Why some teach English and not Art!
An NQT was teaching seasonal themed poetry to Keystage 3.
After reading the first verse of one poem, Home Thoughts from Abroad,
he was met with blank stares. It dawned on him that the kids did not understand the words "the brushwood sheaf round the elm-tree bole".
So he set out to draw a diagram. He very carefully drew a straight line
from north to south with a large swelling at the bottom. He then just as
carefully repeated this on the other side. As he listened to the
silence conveying rapt attention, he prided himself that
thinking on his feet had got them hooked.
As he hastily dashed off the straight lines to indicate twigs round the bole
he heard a mass intake of breath and turned to find 30 faces looking with a mixture of disbelief and hilarity. He turned to the board to
find out why his creation could have caused such a sensation.
There, to his horror, was his diagram, surpassing in crudity (and size) anything found scrawled on the lavatory wall!
Try it yourself! (but not in class!)
* Like happy, found sheep seven teacher trainees sat in the Head's
office at 9am on their first day in teaching practice. The head was
brand new also, a few weeks old, and had found it hard to enforce certain rules there that he had bestowed on every school he had "headed" over.
One of his biggees was "'NO Jackets to be worn in the
hallways or the classroom."
"'Do what you like, you fellows", he boomed.
"You have my full authority to demand that jackets and coats are not
One of the cockier, shall-we-say-less-aged and more-vertically
challenged Trainees left the room with a gleam, and a will to stamp
his authority on someone - in the hallway at least. He was straining to
rub his hands in glee - 8lbs of textbooks and folders denied him the
satisfaction. The others had the feeling he had been waiting for this ever
since he could see above mowed grass.
At lunch time he was found by the others in the staffroom, ice-pack to his face and the wind gone from his sails.
The story relates thus:
"Between first and second class I was moving against the flow in the
hallway, removing coats from shoulders as if by will, when ahead of me
I spied a small mountain of flesh clearing bodies before him as he
glided down towards me.
As soon as I spotted that he was wearing a jacket however, all thoughts of my head's proximity to the ground, unstoppable object meeting immovable force, and goodwill to all things angry left my head and I stepped in front of him.
He grunted, the breath expelled from his nostrils parting my hair.
"Oi," I said prodding his thigh with an upstretched finger:
I think I was on the floor before he even finished saying 'b*****y
cheek of a sixth-former."
Apparently both the Trainee and the Y9 Rugby Captain shook hands and
ALL NAMES AND ADDRESSES USED ON THE SITE HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THE INDIVIDUALS AND NO RESPONSIBILITY IS TAKEN FOR ANY COINCIDENTAL SIMILARITIES WHICH MAY OCCUR.